


Insomnia

by Deannie



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-23
Updated: 2003-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder can't sleep. No big surprise, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomnia

I should really get a dog. Or a cat. Or something. I used to console myself with the fish, but I got sick of seeing them all belly-up when I'd come home from yet another case.

Still, it's not like an FBI agent _can't_ have an animal. Scully had Queequeg--well, until he was eaten by an alligator masquerading as a sea monster.

Nah. Screw the pet. What I should _really_ get is some sleep. I _do_ know I have a problem in that department, contrary to what many seem to think. I can tell I have one when I wake up at 7:00 after a one hour nap and have to go to work feeling like shit.

I know I have a problem. Which should be the first step to a cure, right? Ha! Twelve step programs for behavorially challenged FBI psychologists with inappropriate guilt. What would that be? TSPBCFBIPIG? About as incomprehensible as the rest of my life.

It's _really_ quiet at 4:30 in the morning around here. Really quiet. I even turn the television down as far as I can when this time of night rolls around. Not like I'm going to wake anyone up--I don't know. It's like my body just instinctively knows that it's doing something wrong by staying up this late. It feels guilty, so my ears become more attuned to sounds--like that van that's been idling in the street below me for the last twenty-five minutes. What is _that_ all about? Drug dealers, maybe?

Nah. Probably just spies hoping I talk in my sleep. Sorry guys. I don't even sleep and talking to yourself means you're crazy.

Seriously! I read it somewhere.

4:36.

Maybe at five I'll go for a run. Friday nights have _got_ to be the worst. It'd be fine if I had to go in to work this morning. I could go for a run, take a shower, and suck it up and work. But Saturdays? Saturdays I just get to look back on another wasted night and realize that I'm not even taking advantage of the American Dream of sleeping in on the weekends.

4:37.

This isn't helping. I'm a pyschologist. I should be able to tell myself something comforting, something that would give me permission to sleep.

4:38.

_Look at it this way: Your partner's still alive._

Okay, not quite what I was looking for.

_Haven't been taken out by the syndicate yet, have you?_

True, but not reassuring.

4:39.

_ring_

"Hello?"

"Mulder, it's me. Did I wake you?"

"Scully? It's 4:30 in the morning!"

"Actually, it's 4: _40_ in the morning I take it I didn't wake you, then?"

"No What's wrong?"

"I I wanted to know whether you thought I needed to get the paperwork on the Crimmins case out on Monday or--"

"Can't sleep, huh?"

"...Been sitting here staring at the wall for the last three hours."

"Why?"

"I don't know I guess I've just got too many things on my mind--"

"No, I mean why were you staring at the walls? You've got cable--You just missed two great Hitchcock films and the 1990 49ers Football Yearbook on ESPN."

"Why did I call you again?"

"Because you love to hear my voice?"

"Goodnight, Mulder."

"Hey! You called me! Why do I get a 'Goodnight, Mulder' when you called me?"

"I'll see you on Monday."

_click_

4:41.

Okay, if I go get changed and tie my shoes _really_ slowly, and take the stairs, I should hit the street by 5:00.

After I sit here and stare at the wall some more.

Poor Scully. She had a pretty good life before the X-Files. I mean, okay, so she'd picked a carreer her father hated, and she didn't really have any romantic prospects, but... But she was safe.

And _I_ was safe.

'Cause alone is safe, right? Common thought process. If I'm alone, I can't be hurt, right? Except that now, whenever I'm alone, I hurt.

Go figure _that_ one out!

Good thing Scully's always there when I need her. Which is _always._ She, on the other hand, rarely needs me. _yawn_ I'm just the guy who's always awake at 4:47 in the morning, when she needs _yawn_ to talk.

Well, I hope you're sleeping now, Scully. I'm gonna just close my eyes for a couple of minutes to wake up enough to go for that run.

 

10:13.

_ring_

"Hello?"

"Mulder, it's me."

" Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

* * *

_The End_


End file.
